


Faithfully yours.

by MrSnydeStoried



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Padmé Amidala Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26564038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrSnydeStoried/pseuds/MrSnydeStoried
Summary: In a twist of fate, where Padmé lives, but the twins die, she and Obi-Wan go into hiding together on a remote planet. When there, they find love and healing in each other that helps soothe the still fresh wounds that the rise of the Empire dealt them.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is just gonna be a few, limited glimpses into their life together, and while it has a narrative, a lot will be left unsaid, and almost all of it will be firmly in the past. If you're looking for something fluffy or dialogue heavy this is not the work for you. BUT if you want a depressing romance in a cabin in the woods, do I have the story for you.

He had made the wrong choice and she would never forgive him for it. His choice, his one decision had damned her to live, and her children to die. She knew she was being selfish, maybe even a little sick. She knew she should have been grateful to him, for saving her life, giving her hope. But she found it a difficult notion to stomach, given that he was the man who had killed her whole family.  
“Medically, she is completely healthy. For reasons we can't explain, we are losing her.”  
Then why couldn’t they, he have just let her die? But Kenobi, always playing hero, always trying to do “the right thing” couldn’t accept that. He had to meddle with things. So instead, he had made the executive decision to attempt a forbidden healing technique on her. From what she had heard afterwards, he had come into the operating room, placed the tips of his fingers to her temples, and tried to force life back into her fading frame. The technique had been banned for a reason, however, one that had been lost to time, eroded away under years of disuse in the Jedi order. It was true that the force could be used to create or preserve life, that a powerful enough practitioner could save someone from even a mortal wound. Force healing, sadly, had an unintended side effect when used on other force sensitives, one which Obi-Wan had no way of knowing. When a jedi used healing on one of these force wielding forms, it condemned one of the two to death, very often destroying the life that had they had been trying to save. While Padmé had been unaffected, the two children she was carrying in her womb had been completely erased by Obi-Wan’s force healing. But, he had succeeded, to a certain extent, and from a certain point of view. Padmé had lived. Barely. The weeks after that were defined by near constant, all consuming agony.  
When she was finally strong enough to walk, she shuffled through the aggressively clean halls of Polis Massa into a darkened meeting room, to find Obi-Wan floating cross legged deep in meditation. He explained to her, with aggravating patience, that the two of them were to immediately depart for another world, where they were to spend the rest of their lives in hiding. Master Yoda would, he assured her seek out, train and protect any other Jedi that had survived the massacre. Within six hours, the two were sailing alone through the darkness of hyperspace. They were in a ship provided by Bail Organa, crewed exclusively by droids.  
They talked very little in those first days. Neither of them felt particularly up to the task. She could feel the pain and blame of his gaze burning into her when her back was turned. She shot him equally venomous glares, almost subconsciously, whenever he did something to remind her of his presence. When she looked at her former friend, all she could see was the face of Anakin’s killer, the murderer of her unborn children, and the tyrant that was attempting to steal what little shreds of her own identity she had left. He had taken everyone she loved away from her, and stolen away her career, home and people, all without ever consulting her. So many times, she turned the events that had lead up to Anakin’s death in her mind. She kept coming back to that moment, when she turned around, to see Obi-Wan, legs spread, his hands on his hips, standing in the light of her ship’s docking ramp. That level of deception, of betrayal, how he had used her to get to Anakin, was something she could neither forgive nor forget. What if, she wondered to herself, Obi-Wan had just minded his own business? Could she have talked Anakin down? Could she have brought him in line? If Obi-Wan had waited five minutes, could she have turned Anakin back to the light, have saved his life? She would never know now. That is not how history had played out. Anakin was dead. The republic had died with him. And it was all Obi-Wan’s fault.


	2. Chapter 2

Golden beams of light shone through the window of the Jedi Temple. They were slowed by and refracted off the dust motes hanging heavy in the air, floating peacefully. They floated in suspension, promising in their, graceful, drifting arcs a soporific serenity, as if even tis dust would remain in its proper place until the universe ground to a halt. Then the solution was agitated, as a form moved through it creating swirls in the dust motes, and a roiling vacuum behind the figure. Qui-Gon Jin paced back and forth, his young pupil, smiling up at him from his cross legged seat on the floor. It had been a long time since they had been in this place, and had such little to do, their last mission defending the now Duchess Satine of Mandalore had occupied their every waking moment of late, and it was finally time to de-escalte and debrief.   
“You are learning quickly Obi Wan, your mastery of the force surpasses even mine when I was your age. Perhaps even Master Yoda’s. It is as if you were made for this work, and I have no doubt that you will go on to do great things.”  
“Thank you Master, I am flattered by your praise, and I can sense the sincerity behind it, but I fear you overestimate my power.”  
“On the contrary if anything I am being moderate with my praise. You truly do amaze me, Obi Wan. You are a disciplined mystic, a masterful duelist, and above all a good man. I know that you are concerned about your feelings for Satine, and I understand that. But what you have to understand, my young pupil, is that these feelings are not your weakness, they are your strength. You have a great gift, one that makes you more powerful than all the Jedi that have come before you. You alone, out of every Jedi I’ve meat retain the capacity for love. You are so in touch with the living force, because you possess the ability to love everything that lives.”  
“Even me.” Came a voice from behind Obi Wan, and a young man in a dark tunic entered his vision.   
“Anakin” Obi Wan gasped. “You-You aren’t supposed to be here.” His apprentice payed him no mind and continued as if he hadn’t spoken.  
“Like a brother. Isn’t that what you said Obi Wan? That you loved me like a brother?”  
Qui-Gon continued his lecture as if neither of them had interrupted.   
“You love trees and grass, and the loathsome insects that scuttle in the shade. You love the city, with its people. You love the republic, you love the order, you love your friends, you love even me with all I’ve done. It is in your nature to love Obi Wan. Do not forget this, do not ignore this. This is what makes you so special.”  
As Qui-Gon spoke, the air that had previously contained only a handful of floating particulates slowly became hazy with them. It was smoke, Obi Wan realized, thick smoke filling the room, stinging his eyes and throat.   
“Master, something’s wrong.” Obi Wan coughed.   
“I couldn’t agree more.” Anakin said, crouching so he filled Obi Wan’s vision. It was then that Obi Wan realized that the smoke was coming from Anakin, rolling off him in dark black clouds. The glowing yellow embers of his apprentices hate filled eyes shone through the smoke, cutting into Obi Wan.   
“As long as we’re at lecture, master, can you answer a question for me? What do your master, your order, the republic, your friends, your soldiers, the loyal clones, Cody, Ahsoka, Windu and all the other Jedi, the younglings, the innocents across the galaxy, freedom itself, your precious Duchess Satine, and I all have in common?”  
“I loved you, I really loved you” Obi Wan sobbed, his throat clogged with smoke and grief.  
“YOU FAILED US” Anakin and Qui Gon both shouted, and with their voices were hundreds of others, all familiar, and above the rest was the resonant roar of Maul’s rage. With these last words, the smoke filled and blacked out his vision, and Obi Wan shot awake. 

Some men snored. Some veterans of Wars, Obi Wan had heard, shouted or kicked in their sleep. But they were not force users. In the two weeks since the day he dared not think about, Obi Wan had been plagued by nightmares, and when he was deep in the throws of his own dreams, his subconscious reached out and telekinetically shook every object in his vicinity. It had become so problematic that he would affect objects even in other rooms, as long as they were near enough. This had roused Padmé too many times during ship’s night, so he had taken to sleeping in the cargo bay, far from Padmé and safe from any delicate components his terror induced tremors would disturb.   
He sat up and mopped the sweat from his brow, before staring sightlessly at the bulkhead. Gradually the rattling noises around him subsided as the objects he’d shaken in his sleep returned to their resting place. He sat there lost in thought, so deeply that it took him several minutes to realize he was fiddling with the activating panel for his lightsaber. No. He couldn’t spend both his conscious and unconscious moments reliving events he couldn’t change. Not when he had so many other duties to attend to. So many other responsibilities to occupy his time. There was Padmé to think of, he had one final mission. So Obi-Wan Kenobi rose, and paced the length of the darkened ship, and tried to forget the fury, the flames, and the inescapable feeling he should have stopped them all.


	3. Arrival

No matter what planet you were on, evergreen trees smelled more or less the same. That unique, crisp, refreshing scent which seemed to cut through the doldrums of everyday living. Even from the lofty, elevated space port over the city of Chamen, Padmé could smell the trees far away. The entire city looked as if it had been designed to carry and amplify the scent. The city’s space port, in fact the only one on the planet, was perched on and carved into a small mountain, around which the city sprawled. Long streets, stretched out into the distance like the spokes of a wheel, outlining a large, almost perfectly round city, full of large round buildings. Carved from a pale greyish stone, the buildings were spacious and open, full of large arches and windows. The rooves were made with colorful shingles of treated metal, covering the entire spectrum of visible light in bright, vibrant, hues. The whole city seemed to shimmer beneath her in the pre-dawn light. It was a beautiful city, a true hidden gem.   
She had never, even in her work as a galactic senator, heard of this planet much less this city. If she had she would have found some way to steal Anakin away from his duties as a Jedi and take him here for a vacation. It was too late for that now. Still, even alone she would have wanted to stay, to linger in tis city, with its wonderous sights and smells, but it was too late for that as well. She was following the brown cloaked figure of Obi-Wan down a small, residential street leading away from the spaceport.   
“I have some… things to take care of.” He murmured at the round wooden door to one of the squatter buildings. “If you need anything, anything at all, give a shout.” With a whirl of his cloak, he vanished into the aperture, which shut silently behind him. Padmé settled down on a stone bench in the lee of the house to wait for him. The subtle chill of the rock beneath her leached through her thick clothing, leaving her not quite cold, but just slightly uncomfortable. In a sort of removed way, she was grateful, as the feeling served as an efficient reminder her whole personhood was here.   
The city woke while she waited. Slowly pedestrians in soft looking clothing emerged onto the street. Within the hour, the street was bustling with men and women, mostly human going about there business. They spoke in a lightly but pleasantly accented basic, greeting each other jovially. Smells of cooking meats and spices flooded the streets not long after, and her empty stomach growled noisily. The smells seemed to grow stronger and stronger, until without warning, Obi-Wan appeared on the bench next to her.   
“I thought you might be hungry.” He said, proffering a black paper box to her. She opened it, and inside were three breaded pastries and a small container of pickled vegetables. “The one with red filling is a desert apparently. I thought you might want to know before you bit into it expecting some savory meat filling like I did.” She could hear the smile beneath his sardonic self-depreciation, and she snorted at the joke in spite of herself. The food was quite excellent, its rich flavors and buttery bread only further enhanced by her hunger. She was just digging in to her second pastry when she felt something weighty settle on her shoulders. It was a cloak, like Obi-Wan’s only a few shades darker. She looked at him by way of a question, but he kept staring resolutely outwards towards the street quietly munching on a pastry, crumbs collecting comically in his beard. Now that she considered it, he hadn’t made eye contact with her in hours, which was fine by her. They finished the rest of their respective meals without another word. When she finished, he deftly took the box from her and hid it away in his cloak.   
“We had best be on our way.” He said, offering a hand to help her up. She rose without taking it. “I’ll follow your lead, master Jedi.”


End file.
